


Northern Downpour Sends Its Love

by sophomorestump



Series: Band S/A [3]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Lies, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Relationship(s), References to Depression, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophomorestump/pseuds/sophomorestump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon refused to let the darkness clouding his mind show to anyone, but it got more difficult as time pressed on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Downpour Sends Its Love

**Author's Note:**

> another old fic i wrote that takes place TWTLTRTD! era and some things happen when they did irl but it's fine. the publication date is roughly when it was written.

“You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“What do you mean?”

Brendon hoped the words didn’t come out harshly. He didn’t want to snap at Dallon, he really didn’t. Dallon was his friend, his best friend, but…but Dallon wasn’t who he wanted to be best friends with. Honestly, Brendon thought Dallon was amazing, just not the type of amazing he wanted in his best friend, if that made sense.

Luckily, if he was unintentionally mean to his friend, he didn’t show it much. Dallon looked at his lap, picking at his fingernails. He spoke in a mumble, almost unintelligible, “I-I don’t know, you just seem a little, uh, I dunno, almost angry. Are you doing okay?”

“Of course, Dallon, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Is it Spencer?”

“Wha- Spencer?”

“Y'know, Spencer hasn’t been around much, and I know he’s been here since the beginning, unlike myself, so the only thing I can think of is…you miss him.”

Brendon swallowed. It was half true, he did miss someone who was in the band from the start. His initials were also alliterate. He also had messy brown hair falling in his face. But he wasn’t Spencer Smith. Brendon knew the only way to get Dallon off his back would be to bend the truth just a tiny bit, and he knew it’d be believable too. He nodded. “Yeah, I do miss Spencer.” At least that part wasn't a lie.

Dallon half-smiled, probably happy that Brendon had finally admitted how he felt, albeit it not being the whole truth. Well, he didn’t know it wasn't the full truth; he hopefully would never know. “Don’t worry, Bren. He’ll be back and better than ever soon enough.”

Brendon winced, as if in pain. He was in pain, he supposed, but not the physical kind. He wished it was the physical kind, as it healed much easier and was a lot less confusing. “Don’t call me Bren.” That he knew came out a little angry. He _was_ a little angry.

Dallon gave Brendon an apologetic look. “Sorry, Bren…don. But the point is, he’ll be back, okay?”

Brendon nodded silently, looking at nothing in particular on the floor, the tiny space between the two sets of bunks on the tour bus. He traced every little crease with his mind. He knew the person who he actually had in mind would not be back.

“I’m gonna go to my bunk for the night, if that’s cool.”

Brendon nodded again, this time saying, “Yeah,” very quietly.

Brendon barely noticed Dallon climb over him. Dallon’s bunk was right above Brendon’s, which sometimes got annoying, especially if Dallon was up watching TV during the late hours when Brendon was trying to sleep and Brendon would pound his fist on the wood above him and mutter, “Shut _up_.” Brendon heard the metal-on-metal of the curtain closing and the slight click of the small TV in Dallon’s bunk coming down. Brendon knew he was alone then and shut his curtain as well.

He lay awake, unsure of what time it was. It had to be at least two in the morning, maybe half past. He drummed his fingers on his stomach. Nighttime was the only time he ever got to be alone with how he felt, mulling over how ridiculous he was being about it.

He had started drifting away into his daydreams when suddenly his curtain was pushed slightly over to reveal a hand holding a cell phone. Brendon looked at it, puzzled. Why was Dallon giving him his phone? Brendon slowly accepted it and pressed the small button on top to see that a call was in progress. “Spencer Smith." Brendon sighed deeply (trying and failing to keep it quiet) before holding the phone to his ear. Spencer was mid-saying, “Hello?”

Brendon unconsciously cracked a smile. Hearing Spencer's voice calmed his nerves, the voice of his closest friend. “Hey, Spence.”

“So I hear you miss me.”

Brendon bit his lip, the movement making a slight pause in the conversation before he said, “Yeah.”

“Don’t, Brendon. Please don’t miss me, please don’t take it out on anyone else, and please don’t let it affect what you’re doing for the band. Not that I think you're doing those last two things. But...still.”

“Can we…not talk about that?” requested Brendon, trying to sound gentle.

“Oh, oh, sure. What do you wanna talk about?”

“Uhh…I don’t know, how about we just try to have a normal conversation about o-”

Just then, Brendon was interrupted by the sound of the bus door opening. He pulled the phone from his ear and covered the speaker with one hand. Some people were getting onto the bus, some crew members he really would hope assume he was asleep. He loved them, but this was a bad time for him, y'know, to talk. With the exception of Spencer, since he had to keep the act up now.

However, just because he had to convince Dallon that Spencer was always on his mind (and he supposed he was, just farther back than other people) didn’t mean he had to let the entire crew (that was an exaggeration, it obviously wasn’t the entire crew on his bus, but still) think so too. He knew it, he was far too proud. He held the phone speaker close to his mouth and said, hopefully audibly to Spencer through the clatter of the crew members settling in, “I gotta go.” He didn’t give Spencer a chance to reply before hanging up and resting the phone on his chest. He knew he couldn’t give Dallon his phone back, either, oh no; that would definitely result in a few pointing fingers and a few more, “Brendon, what are you doing?"s. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to know about his little lie and the second-to-last thing he wanted was attention, for once. Usually he was a sucker for being what everybody was focused on, but not now, not in this state.

He decided to give Dallon his phone back once he knew everyone was in their bunks.

He looked through the tiny crack between the curtain and wooden back of his bunk. He didn’t see anyone, but suddenly he heard noises from the front lounge, which sounded like the microwave. _God, if somebody is making Hot Pockets right now, I swear-_

He couldn’t complete his thought, as suddenly a sea of crew members flooded back into the bunk area, talking away. He sighed to himself, knowing that he had two options.

Option A was giving Dallon his phone now. That would result in the crew thinking he missed Spencer dearly. He did miss Spencer, he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad, but he wasn’t aching for Spencer to come back the way he was for someone else. It simply wasn’t true.

Option B was going to sleep and giving Dallon his phone in the morning. That would result in getting in even deeper with Dallon, as he’d have to say that they talked all night and that’s why he couldn’t give him his phone back. What if the crew said they didn’t hear Brendon on the phone? But also, he could try the excuse "I thought you might be asleep and I didn’t want to bother you." Yeah, that’d work. He decided on that.

Brendon safely tucked away Dallon’s phone in the far corner of his bunk alongside his own. He turned to face the curtain and shut his eyes. The bus started moving and it was almost like it was rocking him to sleep, other than the potholes or speed bumps every once in a while. He didn’t find it too difficult to fall asleep, and it was even easier to dream about the one he wished was next to him, or even in the bunk across from him. Anything closer than they were, any less distance would be satisfying.

But he knew he couldn’t have it.

~~~

Brendon awoke to his own phone buzzing against his foot. His alarm.

He lazily reached for it and hit the off button, sitting up against his pillow. He knew he didn’t have time for relaxation, as he had set the alarm for as late as he knew he could get away with. It wasn’t until he stepped out of his bunk to see Dallon already dressed and ready that he realized he had slept in his clothes.

Brendon reached into his bunk and pulled out Dallon’s phone, handing it to him. Dallon asked, “Wow, talked all night?”

Brendon shook his head. “No, just thought you might’ve fallen asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Dallon flashed a smile and nodded once before finishing up getting ready for his day.

Brendon didn’t have as long of a morning routine as Dallon. He slipped into the tiny tour bus bathroom and was out five minutes later. All he needed then was a cup of coffee.

The good thing about waking up later than Dallon, for Brendon, was that Dallon had always already made coffee. Brendon was too busy pouring himself some to notice Dallon approach him from behind.

“Brendon?”

Brendon jumped, spilling a little cream on the counter. “Christ, Dallon.”

“Sorry.” Dallon took a paper towel and wiped the small puddle. “I just wanted to ask…are you feeling any better?”

Brendon didn’t really know how to answer. He sipped his drink to stall. He didn’t feel better. But was he expecting him to feel better after talking to Spencer? He probably was. When Brendon put the cup down, he was grinning. “Yes. Thanks.”

Dallon returned his expression. “Awesome. Ready for soundcheck?”

“Mhm.”

They both stepped off the bus into the hot air of the state of Utah. That was where they were performing that night, and Brendon knew that he wouldn’t be any less distracted during soundcheck than he had been.

~~~

To say the least, he was right.

Brendon could barely get the words out, getting some wrong, even, but not badly enough that he needed correcting. Afterwards, Dallon asked if he was sure he was okay, to which Brendon assured him he was, lied right through his teeth. This month marked, what, five years? Five years exactly he’d been a wreck. Dallon hadn’t been in the band for five years, so how, you may ask, does he know that Brendon is acting up? Well, usually Brendon is pretty good at concealing his sorrows, but for some reason it had been eating him up inside even more recently. It was only getting increasingly more difficult to be his usual bubbly self. He always felt bad, feeling like he was messing up the shows for Dallon and the fans. The latter, though, didn’t seem to notice, thank God.

The show went a lot easier than soundcheck, luckily, and Brendon blew through all twenty-one songs with what he could almost call ease. He made sure to look sad during “This is Gospel” for Dallon. He was gonna make sure to sell this lie. He didn’t like to call it a lie, though, because it wasn’t really. Like he said, he did genuinely miss Spencer, just not as much as he’s making it out to be. The real person upsetting him isn’t Spencer and has less of a chance of return. He knew that. He should be over that.

Brendon walked off the stage a sweaty mess as usual, Dallon beaming at him. “Great job out there!” he exclaimed.

Brendon smiled slightly. “You too.”

Brendon went through many more congratulations as he made his way through the back of the venue. He would smile and thank them, empty thanks. Ideas were starting to form in his mind and as much as he appreciated everyone thinking he played well (pushing aside the feeling of being patronized with how they were saying it), he had to focus on what was in his head. He thought he might be able to put it to use.

He decided to use the tiny, awkward bus shower the second he got out of the venue as an excuse not to be distracted. He didn’t do much, though, but just stand there, thinking, because, yes, he knew what he had to do.

As it had before, pride was getting in his way, but he was letting it. Not very gladly, but he wasn’t going to push it down and strip himself of what he found to be his coolness. He knew he could get past it and no way would it stop him from getting what he wanted.

He quickly dried off and left the bus, finding a spot away from everybody to execute his plan.

~~~

Brendon, with trembling hands, pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Spencer’s number. He answered quickly, cheer in his voice, “Hey, Brendon.”

“Hi, Spencer.”

“You wanna talk?”

Brendon shifted his weight, starting to regret this decision. “You have Jon’s number, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you give it to me?”

“Sure, why?”

Brendon was hoping he wouldn’t ask. Quickly, his brain raced for an excuse as to why on Earth he wanted to talk to Jon. “Uh…because…because I just wanna talk to him, y'know? Like old times.” He guessed he did have to give up a little of his pride. But not enough to directly ask Spencer for the number he was really looking for.

Spencer laughed lightly before giving Brendon Jon’s number. Brendon thanked him and hung up to continue his quest.

Brendon slowly entered Jon’s number. He was nervous. How could he not be? Maybe, just maybe this would work. There felt like an even bigger chance it wouldn't.

Brendon’s hands shook as the phone rang…and rang…and rang. He gave up and hit “end call." He could try again later, right?

Brendon ran back to the bus. He hoped he wasn’t being suspicious, as he usually wasn’t back to the bus until quite late. He decided to distract himself with TV. Hopefully things would work out tomorrow.

~~~

“Hey, Brendon!” Dallon shut the bus door behind him. “You’re back early.”

Well, there went that.

“Huh? Oh. I’m just really tired as all.”

Thank God, Dallon just smiled and went to the fridge.

Brendon looked at the clock on his phone. It was nearly one in the morning. Maybe this was an okay time to go to sleep?

“Speaking of, I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Good idea. Goodnight.”

“Night, Dallon.”

Brendon crawled into his bunk and curled up facing away from the wall. He imagined that he had his arms around him. That things were like they used to be, and they would wake up beside each other. But he knew that couldn’t be true. Yet

~~~

The next morning, Brendon woke up with tears staining his face. “Huh?” he whispered to himself, wiping them away. He tried to recall his dreams the night before. It came back to him suddenly, all at once.

_“How’d it go?!”_

_“Well, um…he said that he thinks it’s best that they leave.”_

_“W-What?”_

_“Just because of creative differences. It’s not your fault at all. They don’t want it to be like this.”_

_“But…together forever.”_

_“I’m sorry. That just can’t happen. But you still have me, right?”_

_“Yeah. I still have you.”_

A little part of the dream was missing there, but he remembered a part later on.

_“I’m so sorry.”_

_“Can we still talk?”_

_“I don’t…I don’t know.”_

_“Please…”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“How could you do this? We had so many great times. Things were going so well. And then you decide to go off and…and…”_

_“Sh, it’s over. It’s over.”_

_“Goodbye?”_

_“Goodbye.”_

That explained it.

Brendon realized then that it had really changed him. He wasn’t his old happy, upbeat self anymore, not on the inside. He missed the old him, and he missed the old band.

He swung his legs out of his bunk and opened the curtain. Slowly, he stood and trudged out to the front lounge. Dallon was there, drinking coffee. “Good morning,” he said cheerily. That happiness didn’t last once he observed Brendon a little closer. He was slouching slightly, a small frown on his face. His hair was messier than normal and his eyes were red and puffy. “Are you okay? Spencer again?”

Brendon didn’t know how, but suddenly he exploded.

“I miss Ryan!” he sobbed, throwing himself onto the couch and hiding his face in its arm. Immediately, he was ashamed of himself. What had gotten into him? First he was moping, then he was letting his thoughts spill out to Dallon in broken cries. It was embarrassing. He wished he could have a second chance at the past few months.

“Oh, Brendon…” Dallon rubbed his back, but stopped upon feeling Brendon tense further. “You could’ve just told me that. How long has this been going on?”

“Since he and Jon left.”

“Why are you only telling me now? Why would you lie?”

“Because this is stupid! It’s been five years, Dallon, five years and I still haven’t gotten over him. Okay? I didn’t wanna tell anyone because it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, I promise.”

“It is!” Brendon sat up straight. “It is.” He stumbled to his feet and made his way back to the bunks. “I’m calling Jon.”

He rubbed his eyes before dialing the number again. It rang for a long time. So long, in fact, that Brendon was about to hang up before Jon answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon.”

“…Brendon?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you calling? How did you even get my number?”

“Spencer still has it. He gave it to me.”

“That doesn’t answer my first question.”

Brendon hoped Jon wasn’t angry with him. “I-I’m sorry, I just…I just-”

“Are you crying?”

“I, um, I…yes, I am crying, alright? Could you give me Ryan’s number?”

Slowly, Jon said, “Sure,” and read it off to him. Brendon thanked him and hung up to immediately call up Ryan.

This was a lot worse than trying to call Jon. What if Ryan didn’t want him back? What if he did? Would that be worse?

Brendon was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed when Ryan said, “Hello?”

Brendon got straight to the point. “It’s Brendon.”

“Wha…Brendon? Urie?”

“How many other Brendons do you know?” He was trying to lighten the mood, but maybe he came across as snippy.

Ryan forced himself to laugh a little. At least, to Brendon it felt forced. “None. How are you calling me? Are you crying? What’s going on?”

“Long story, yes, and, well…I-I miss you.”

“You miss me?”

“Yeah.”

“Brendon…” Ryan paused for a long time and Brendon found himself holding his breath. “It’s been five years, you need to move on.”

Brendon’s heart dropped. It felt like more than just dropping; he was sure he then knew how it felt to have your heart ripped straight out of your chest, stepped on, and then thrown off a cliff.

“I-I know…but I just thought…maybe…” All of the words caught in his throat.

“Bren? It’s over. Okay?”

Brendon swallowed hard. Bren. “Okay.”

As he hung up the phone, though, Brendon knew that it was neither okay nor over.

~~~

Okay. Brendon had two days off before another tour date. He had to get this right right now or he would mess up a lot more than his already-broken relationship with Ryan.

Dallon was asleep when Brendon was dropped off at the airport. Brendon didn’t want to face him, honestly, because he was still a little ashamed of the meltdown he had had a few days prior. Instead, he left a note:

“Dallon-

Don’t worry, I didn’t run away or any thing. I’m just leaving this note so you don’t worry about me. I’m okay and I’ll be back on the bus before the next stop. I might tell you what I’m doing later, but for now, just don’t worry.

Brendon”

He knew it was a little sloppy but he didn’t have time to think about it. He was hopping off the bus and running into the airport to catch his flight to Vegas.

~~~

Brendon was used to flying, what with being in a band for ten years, but he felt more jittery than usual this time. Understandable, considering the circumstances, he supposed. The friendly middle-aged woman sitting next to him asked if he was okay a few times. They ended up talking.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just doing something, um, important.”

“And what would that be?”

Brendon gulped. “I’m, uh, going to see my…ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said. She was tall and quite tan with light brown hair down to her shoulders. It was straight but flicked out at the ends, so Brendon thought it might be straightened. “I’m Maria.”

“I’m Brendon.”

“So, what’s your boyfriend’s name? Tell me the story. I’m known for giving relationship advice, y'know.”

He sighed and looked at his lap. “His name is Ryan.” He paused to gain the courage to look up at her. “And we’re in a band.” The courage quickly vanished and his gaze was glued to his thighs once again. “We were in a band.”

“What happened?”

“Well, ten years ago, the band was us, my friend Spencer, and this guy Brent, who did nothing for the band, so we kicked him out and brought in a guy named Jon. Anyway, we were doing great and made two records, and then…and then we had had a great five years, but…Ryan and Jon left, due to ‘creative differences.’” He tried to fight back tears. “So then it was me and Spencer, and eventually we recruited Dallon in place of Jon, and now Spencer is on hiatus from the band.”

“Oh, no, that’s so sad. What’s your band called?”

“Panic! at the Disco.”

Maria shrugged. “Never heard of you, but maybe I’ll check you out. Okay, now I’m getting sidetracked. What’s Ryan like?”

“Well, I’m super hyper and get excited over stupid stuff, and…Ryan is the opposite of that,” he laughed. “Not in a bad way. He’s just more calm and logical.”

She nodded slowly. “When was the last time you talked?”

“A few days ago we talked for the first time since he left, but he said it was over and he didn’t want to talk to me.”

“You’re quite ambitious, aren’t you, Brendon?” Brendon nodded. “Okay, I have some advice: give him space. This should be your last attempt if it fails. He'll just grow to resent you if you chase him and keep persisting. If this works out, that's awesome, and I hope it does. But if it doesn't, then it wasn't meant to be, and there's someone better for you out there. That's a promise."

“Wow. That’s really good advice.” It hurt, but she was right. Brendon thought about her words for a moment before grinning and giving a sincere, “Thanks.”

~~~

Brendon had to do a bit of research to get a hold of Ryan’s address.

Okay, not stalking. Definitely not stalking. Let’s erase that thought right now.

He just had to make some phone calls to Jon and Spencer, beg a little, explain as little as possible, and he had it. It felt somewhat creepy, but he pushed the thought aside.

Brendon could feel his breathing becoming more shallow and his head spinning as his rental car got closer to Ryan’s house (he supposed he could’ve just gone home and gotten his own car, but that would require having someone drive him home, which would require letting someone know he was back home, which could ruin his plan). He thought he might just pass out as he saw the street sign.

Brendon parked a few houses down the road so as to not look suspicious, especially because he needed to take a breather before going in. He unbuckled his seat belt and sat back, seeing if deep breathing would help calm him down. He thought it did until he noticed that he was unconsciously gripping the seat belt at his side, knuckles white. He let go and rested his head in his hands before taking a few more deep breaths. Finally, he shakily got out of the car and looked straight down as he walked towards Ryan’s house.

Ryan had moved since the last time he’d been to his house. He remembered the last three times particularly well, because it was almost ironic.

The third-to-last time was a rehearsal. The four of them had a great time playing and laughing and talking. The second-to-last time was just hanging out, watching a movie and bickering about absolute nonsense to the point where they were in fits of giggles. And the last time was a combination of the two. What started out as just hanging out turned into playing and writing and it was one of the most fun days of Brendon’s life. It seemed weird to him that the last three seemed to line up like that, the perfect mix of practice and hanging out. And who knew all that could be so bittersweet?

Brendon took in a long breath and held it as he knocked on the tall beige door. It was five in the afternoon so he knew he wasn’t interrupting Ryan's sleep or anything. He heard a lot of stumbling, shuffling papers, and falling objects before he heard Ryan’s footsteps.

Finally, the door opened.

It was a surreal experience. Not just for Brendon, but for Ryan too. Brendon was ecstatic. A huge grin was plastered on his face and his dark brown eyes were lighting up. He could not believe this man was standing right there in front of him.

He couldn’t contain himself. He yelled, “George Ryan Ross III!”

Now Ryan looked even more confused. He had reason to be. His ex, standing at his door, after he’d told him it was over, yelling his full name? Weird.

Ryan was so puzzled, in fact, that all he could think to do was mirror Brendon and say, “Brendon Boyd Urie…?” Brendon nodded enthusiastically as if to say, “That’s me!” Ryan squinted at him. “What are you doing here?”

Brendon felt a little shaken by that, but he didn’t let it show. He didn’t really know how to respond to the question, either. “Ryan, I can’t live without you. I really can’t. I still love you and the past five years have been torture without you.”

Ryan expected him to continue his speech, but he didn’t, so he spoke slowly, “I don’t know what to say…”

“Just give me an answer, Ross.”

An answer to what? “Um, Brendon…I don’t…I don’t think I love you anymore. I’m sorry. I’d love to be with you, but I just…don’t feel a spark anymore, y'know? That wouldn’t be fair. To either of us, I mean. 'Cause you’ll just get hurt in the end anyway.”

Brendon had that same feeling in his chest again, the same as the phone call. “But…I thought this was forever…us, the band…forever.”

“I’m sorry, Bren. That’s just not how life works.”

Sometimes Ryan’s logical side did end up being bad.

“Ryan, please…”

“No, Bren, I can’t do it. I can’t.”

“How can you say all this while still calling me Bren? That was our thing. You were Ross and I was Bren.”

“That can still be our thing. But we can’t date or work together, ever again, got it? I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but why even try it if it’s destined to fail and hurt us both?”

“I’m already hurt, Ryan!” Brendon realized that that was conceited of him to say. He shouldn't force Ryan into his misery. “I’m sorry. It would be selfish to drag you to my level. But I just…I need you.”

“Dude, aren’t you on tour right now anyway?”

“Yeah. I flew all the way out here to see you.”

“Well then I’m sorry all your effort was for nothing, I’m really, really sorry, but…this can’t work.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Ryan shut his door, painfully slowly. Brendon was left outside on his porch.

As if on cue or straight out of a cliche romance movie, it started pouring rain. Pouring rain couldn’t come close, though, to the pain Brendon was feeling then.

He trudged down the steps, through the grass and mud, and back to the rental car. All he could do was start it up and drive away.

~~~

He made some arrangements and caught yet another flight. It was a torturous few hours of thinking about and probably way over-analyzing everything Ryan said to him in less than ten minutes. He traced the raindrops on the window. He hoped he could pull himself together.

Finally, the plane landed and he got off as fast as he could. The bus was waiting close by and he quickly hopped on. He was drenched and probably making a mess he would be responsible for cleaning, so he took off his soaked shirt, jeans, and sneakers before even going to the front lounge or bunks or anything. He rested them on the edge of his bunk, and as he did, he heard a voice, “Hey, Brendon!”

Brendon looked up to see Dallon’s head sticking out of the curtain of his bunk. Dallon swung his legs over the side of the tiny bed and jumped down. Dallon was very tall so he always got stuck with top bunk, to his dismay. 

Brendon beamed, “Hey!”

“Where did you go, dude? I’ve been dying to know all day.”

Brendon just shook his head. “Nowhere really.”

“No, no, tell me!”

“Nowhere, alright?” he laughed.

Dallon returned the gesture. “Alright, whatever you say. I rented a movie, though. Wanna watch it?” Brendon nodded enthusiastically.

Just as they settled in, Dallon got a phone call. “It’s Spencer,” he announced before answering. “Spence! What’s up?…Yeah…Okay.” He pulled the phone from his ear and put him on speaker.

“Guys, I have some bad news…” Spencer said sadly.

“How bad?” asked Brendon without thinking.

“Uh…really bad. Really, really bad.”

There was a long pause where the only noise was the road beneath the bus and the heavy breathing of the three boys.

“Go ahead,” said Dallon reluctantly.

“You two sitting down?”

Confused, Dallon replied, “Yeah.”

“Okay, here goes nothin’.” There was another awkward silence before, ever so quietly, Spencer came out with it. “I’m leaving the band.”

“What?!” Brendon exclaimed. He decided he was gonna have to pause and take a moment to think before participating in this conversation anymore. More calmly, he asked, “Why?”

“Because I need to focus all of my time on this right now. I just can’t recover and be in the band at the same time, y'know? It's too much."

“Yeah…I understand…”

Dallon nodded, though Spencer obviously couldn’t see. “Me too. I hope things go well for you, Spence. Will you keep in touch?”

“For sure. I can’t just leave you two alone,” he laughed, “you’ll destroy everything. Especially Brendon.”

The other two boys laughed with him, knowing that it would be the only laughter in the conversation, so despite it being a little forced, they made it last as long as possible. Finally, Brendon said, “You’re definitely right.”

“Take care of the child, Dallon,” said Spencer.

“I will,” Dallon replied, patting Brendon’s head.

Brendon swatted Dallon’s arm away. “Hey!” he giggled.

“You guys will do just fine,” said Spencer, a happy tone in his voice.

“Take care, Spencer. Keep in touch. We both wish you luck with getting clean,” said Dallon.

Brendon added, “Keep us updated!”

“I will. Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Spencer,” they said in unison.

The line went dead and Brendon prayed he would talk to Spencer again.

He said, “Actually, Dallon, I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“But it’s only 10.”

“Yeah, I just...I’m just tired from all this running around.”

Dallon pursed his lips and nodded once. “Okay. Goodnight, Brendon. Don’t worry. Spence was right, we’re gonna be just fine. And he will keep in touch. I trust him."

“Yeah.”

He was off to his bunk.

~~~

_Brendon’s arms were tight around Ryan. “I’m so glad we’re back together,” Brendon mumbled into Ryan’s neck._

_“Me too. Bren, I’m tired.”_

_“Me too, Ross.” Brendon rubbed his boyfriend’s stomach and Ryan snuggled backwards into his chest._

_“I love you,” Ryan muttered._

_“I love you, too.”_

~~~

Brendon awoke with a start.

It was a dream.

It hit him all at once: Jon was gone, the love of his life was gone, and now Spencer was gone. He still had Dallon. Right? What if Dallon realized the band was falling apart and left him too?

He would be alone.

Brendon was alone.


End file.
